


We Made It

by Lunarium



Series: SSSS: Saga of the Mages (aka Mageverse) [19]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Cousins, Dancing, F/F, F/M, M/M, Weddings, happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 10:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7973137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tuuri and Lalli share a dance during Lalli’s wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Made It

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my dearest Elleth on her birthday. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
> 
> This is a scene that came about while we were discussing Tuuri one day and Tuuri's relationship with Lalli, and I couldn't resist writing this out and gifting it to you! :) (and..there are many more gifts coming your way, but I ran out of time, but they are coming!) May you have a wonderful birthday, habibti and the most amazing person I have ever met, and many many happy returns! :) ♥ ☼ ❀ ☮

Heaving a great sigh, Sigrun rested her head on Tuuri’s shoulder, completely uncaring that they were in the presence of dozens others. Tuuri couldn’t completely blame Sigrun, though. Reynir and Lalli had opted to take a mostly Icelandic wedding, rather fitting for their long engagement, so it meant it would last for nearly a week. Sigrun had her fun at first, as there had been much drinking and call for celebration, matters completely in Sigrun’s scope of activities she enjoyed as much as troll-hunting, and Sigrun’s toast to the newlyweds became something that guaranteed no one will ever forget. 

But by now, coming towards the end at last, Sigrun had become restless. 

“So after their speeches, we all dance, and they can finally go off and shag all they want?” Sigrun said in an attempt to stir some trouble as she straightened herself back on her chair. “Not that it’ll be a novelty for either of them. We’ve heard them plenty of times in the bunks while we were trying to stay quiet ourselves, didn’t we, Fuzzyhead?” 

The gasp escaped from Tuuri’s mouth before she could stop herself, eyes wide. She was sure attendants sitting around them could hear. Next to Sigrun, her son Heiberg rolled his eyes and slouched in his seat. 

“Gods, mother,” he whispered just loud enough for Tuuri to hear. At just a few years younger than Tuuri, Heiberg appeared as a cross between Reynir and Lalli: thin, red haired, though his eyes held the same sharp gaze as his mother’s, and about a month back he had decided he would grow his beard in similar fashion as his grandfather. 

Tuuri was thankful of Heiberg being well used to his mother’s off-color remarks that beyond the eye-roll and muttered comment he just sat there and kept his full attention on the newlyweds. 

A good enough behavior for Tuuri to emulate. 

Reynir and Lalli faced the crowd from their high table. Each man gave his speech in three languages. As Reynir gave his, Lalli’s eyes never left him, and from this distance Tuuri thought she saw a tear threatening to escape the normally stoic expression. Knowing what they had gone through together, she fully understood. 

Tuuri’s heart swelled with pride as Lalli gave his speech next; though his voice was soft as a whisper, it carried through the wide open grasslands as he enunciated each word carefully and clearly, having practiced his speech well. The fact that Reynir watched him with all the adoration in the world in his eyes didn’t escape her notice either, and it only made that pride and joy swell greater. 

“How’s his Icelandic?” Sigrun whispered. 

Tuuri replied by mirroring Sigrun’s thumbs-up sign and adding in a smile. 

Sigrun grinned widely. “That’s my boy! His Swedish wasn’t bad either. That’s _Swedish_ spoken in _Sweden_ , my travel-naïve son, a little different from ours but you might still understand—”

“I know, Mom.” 

When the music signaled the start of the dance, and the attendants finally dispersed over the wide plains, Tuuri waited after Reynir and Lalli were done with their customary first dance before pouncing on Lalli. The subject of touch was an issue for Lalli. She didn’t wish to dwell what the limits he had discussed between himself and Reynir, though it seemed he enjoyed Reynir’s touch while they danced—and Sigrun was right, sometimes they were a little _too_ loud in the bunks—but she couldn’t help herself. The pride for her cousin bubbled to the surface upon seeing him, and her big arms came around him, bringing him in for the biggest hug she ever gave anyone. 

“We made it!” she cried happily.

Up close she could see the fatigue in Lalli’s eyes. Planning the wedding wore him out as much as having to go through with it, and she was certain once the occasion officially ended, Lalli will make a beeline back to the Arngerðareyri with Reynir. But at her words, a smile broke through the tired lines on his face. 

“Thank you,” Lalli said in that soft tone, tired but grateful. “Do you want to dance?” Tuuri giggled and took his hands, getting into position. 

“You were excellent,” she said. “Everything: the ceremony, the wedding vows, the reception. I’m so proud of you! And your Icelandic and Swedish are perfect!” 

The smile grew. “Thank you. I have Reynir to thank for Icelandic. I’m always with his relatives, so I hear it all the time. It helps with understanding how the words are supposed to sound.” 

He rested his head on Tuuri’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re happy. It might not show it, but this is the happiest day of my life…assuming Sigrun will return my husband to me in one piece.” 

Tuuri quickly glanced over her shoulder where Sigrun was attempting to dance with Reynir, moving far quicker than he could keep up. Heiberg sat not too far behind, watching them, perhaps monitoring to make sure his mother didn’t get too rough. 

“When I left, she was trying to dance with Heiberg, but he would have none of that.” 

“Smart kid,” Lalli said, which made Tuuri want to laugh, as they were rather close in age. 

“Heiberg will keep an eye on her,” Tuuri assured Lalli. 

“Will he?” Lalli said. “He’s a good man.” But Tuuri didn’t miss the gleam in his eyes as he watched Reynir, rather enjoying seeing his husband being tormented by his former expedition captain. 

_Idiots, both of them_ , Tuuri thought. 

Beyond Lalli’s shoulder, Emil danced with his wife Mirjam at a steady, slow pace as their eldest child Gunnar imitated them by dancing with Rúbý, Elísabet’s daughter. 

“How far along is Mirjam?” Tuuri asked. 

“Close to eight months,” Lalli said. “Emil always writes me letters. I have so many photos of Gunnar by now, and I’m sure I’ll get dozens more once the other kid comes along. Reynir and I can’t manage to take that many pictures of Aina to compete, not with all the work we’re doing on the house. I don’t know how they get the time and energy.” 

Next to Emil and Mirjam danced Mikkel with his wife Asløg, a woman twenty years his senior. From this distance Tuuri could just read the remarks on Mikkel’s lips, laughing with Emil, Mirjam, and Asløg at Sigrun’s tactics. Sigrun must have spotted them talking about her and that only strengthened her resolve to torment Reynir further, to the amusement of his relatives. Either Heiberg had given up monitoring his mother or he had become distracted by a dance offer by Ægir. Tuuri was now certain Lalli wasn’t the only one itching to run back to the Arngerðareyri. 

There were others dancing about, such as Emil’s aunt and uncle, Reynir’s vast extended family, and Sigrun’s gang from Norway. A big pile of mismatched misfits of businessmen, military officers, farmers, artisans, troll-hunting vikings, and mages, all united here. Tuuri nearly teared up. All attending were relatives, friends old and new, people they’ve met during the expedition, people their ancestors knew who they were now reunited with. People from every part of the Known World and some even beyond. All people who were now part of her and Lalli’s lives. People who _cared._

And then there was her and Lalli too. Before he had never been close to her and Onni, but the expedition brought them closer. She counted him as one of her closest friends, and it felt natural being in his arms. And Lalli’s smile, and the careful steps he took, told her he felt the same way. 

Tuuri leaned her head against Lalli’s chest. “Who would have thought we would come to this? We’ve found happiness, Lalli. Both of us.” 

Lalli nodded sleepily. “Yeah.” 

“Do you think Onni doesn’t mind?” 

Their heads turned towards him. He sat with Reynir and Lalli’s tiny child Aina sitting on his lap, guarding her in place as if his entire life depended on it as he listened to Reynir’s mother Maja speak fondly of some happy memory. Katla wasn’t far off, protecting the family while swaying to the music and talking with one of the Finnish mages attending. 

“Of course he’s happy,” Lalli said. “He’s the leader of a group of mages back in Finland. Like how Grandma was. He’s bringing back the old crowd, and bringing in new faces.” 

He froze for a moment before resuming his dance with a little smirk, but Tuuri soon learned why. She nearly laughed loudly. Sitting a little far off, Björk eyed Onni with interest half the time and the other half shaking her head at herself for making eyes at a Finnish mage. 

“Revenge served in the best way,” Lalli said close to Tuuri’s ear. “We have truly found happiness. Now, I wonder if that fool is still alive.” 

Tuuri glanced back, silently thanking her gods that Reynir was holding out. 

“We should get you two back,” she said when she was suddenly engulfed in a tight embrace. 

“Thank you,” Lalli said. “For everything. Thank you. I’m so happy we went on that ship.” 

Tuuri beamed. “What are cousins and friends for?” She returned his hug before an idea came to her mind. 

“A weaning-waltz!” she announced to the crowd. As it was a Finnish tradition, it took some brief explaining, with Taru, Tenho, and others from Finland joining in (and Onni shaking his head though he too wore a small smile), but everyone quickly jumped in on the opportunity. Soon the two men were surrounded by everyone, each taking just one moment to dance with Lalli, then with Reynir as a send off. They spun through the line. Mirjam moved as gracefully as she could with a baby inside; she gave Lalli a quick kiss on the top of his head when it was her turn to dance with him, while Asløg pinched his and Reynir’s cheeks in a way that made everyone laugh. From the old crew, Lalli received a hug or a ruffle of his hair from Mikkel, Emil, and Sigrun before they ran off to do the same with Reynir. Reynir’s father and mother gave their great big bear hugs, and the tinier attendants offered their royal blessings as princesses. 

Katla and Onni timed themselves so that they would reach Lalli and Reynir respectively at the same time, both giving the groom a little mock glare to dare him to ever hurt the other. Fura nearly picked Lalli up and spun him around, and to Tuuri’s surprise, Björk smiled at him as she patted his shoulder. 

The line dwindled down and at last Reynir and Lalli were back in each other’s arms to the applause of everyone. Grabbing one another, Reynir and Lalli joined in for a kiss, and in that moment Tuuri found herself in Sigrun’s embrace as she shrieked out in glee and claimed Tuuri’s lips in similar fashion. 

“Hey, we haven’t danced yet!” Sigrun said, alit with energy. “Rude not to dance with your own wife here!” 

“That’s rich, coming from someone who spent the entire time torturing one of the grooms!” But Tuuri took her hands, and they slipped into step with the music, as Sigrun was thankfully more behaved with Tuuri as her dance partner. 

Tuuri glanced back towards the newlyweds. Lalli had his head on Reynir’s chest, eyes closed, practically asleep. Reynir held him close with all the tender loving care in the world, one hand tucked under the back of his head, lips close to his ear. She could only guess what he was telling her cousin, but the sight was so sweetly romantic that she instinctively leaned into Sigrun, smiling as she felt her wife lean down to speak close to her lips. 

“They’re going to miss out on the bedroom fireworks later on,” Sigrun hissed. “They need to enjoy themselves now while little Freckled Branch is being looked after!” 

Tuuri sighed heavily. “Is this all you’re thinking about today?” 

Sigrun laughed. “Only because this is all taking me back to _our_ wedding! We made use of every second of that night, didn’t we? Nearly shook the entire mountain!” 

“Shhh!” Tuuri hid her face in Sigrun’s bosom, which only made the situation more embarrassing—she felt so good there. She pulled back to show Sigrun her red face and a tiny mischievous smile. “It was great.” 

“Want an encore? Because I recall seeing a huge silo about a few miles away, and it appears it hasn’t been used in decades.” 

The wink did it. 

“You’re awful,” Tuuri giggled, but she accepted Sigrun’s hand. They ran out before Heiberg would take notice, although it seemed he had found new interest in Ægir. Tuuri glanced back at Lalli—yep, definitely sleeping in Reynir’s arms—and waved to Reynir before squeezing Sigrun’s hand. 

With Iceland’s air on her face, the whole world out before them, the knowledge that everything was fine, and the woman of her life leading her towards some new adventure, Tuuri never felt happier in her life.

**Author's Note:**

> So many OCs mentioned here! :D Once I get my Mageverse info sheet up. Some of these OCs show up elsewhere, but for the new ones: 
> 
> Elísabet and Ægir are both Reynir's cousins. 
> 
> Tenho is a Finnish mage, and someone whose ancestors knew Grandma Taika Hotakainen. More info later! :)


End file.
